


Frozen Heart

by uselessroar



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, Monarchy!AU, inspired slightly by frozen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessroar/pseuds/uselessroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she wanted was to get a job. She needed to find some way to support herself and her little sister. Unfortunately, her only option left had been thievery. More unfortunately, she was caught.</p>
<p>And now she, Karla Camila Cabello, was a lowly servant in the royal castle. Probably for the rest of her life. The only upside of her circumstances was that she and her sister had a place to stay and maybe, just maybe, the green-eyed princess nobody outside of the castle walls knew exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Monarchy!AU

Camila breathed heavily, the bonds on her wrists straining against her skin. She could already imagine the bruises it would leave. Lowering her head, she gazed at the ground beneath her, sharp eyes recognising each mark and crack, imprinting them in her memory.

“A thief,” She heard the guard spit, “Tried making off with some treats from the bakery. It’s not her first time either”

She could feel eyes boring into her; she knew that if she lifted her gaze, she would meet the warm brown ones of the king. The cool marble was a relief to her feverish skin, perspiration sliding down her body despite the coolness of the throne room. The rough calloused hand of the guard, the older one, held her back lightly; slightly tense in case of an outburst. She felt unworthy to be in the lavish room, extremely conscious of the dirt on her person.

“What’s your name, child?” The deep, soothing voice of the king was directed to her; unbelief filling her veins at being addressed by his majesty himself.

She licked her chapped lips, tasting the dried blood from her scuffle with the guards. Smirking, she raised her head, dark mirthless eyes meeting warm brown ones. Dark eyes scanned the sight before her, taking in the image of expensive clothing and unnecessary jewellery. Rage overcame her self-consciousness; how could he, the king, own such unnecessary expensive items whereas some of his people were suffering? How could he do that to them?

“Answer his royal highness when he addresses you, fool,” She heard the younger guard sneer, a sudden kick in her side taking her by surprise.

She chuckled humourlessly, raising an eyebrow at the slight surprise showcased on the king’s face. Turning her head to face the guard who had spoken, the dark-haired girl spoke, “The question is not my identity, but why his majesty would grace a humble peasant with his honourable presence.”

“Insolence,” The older guard hissed, swatting the back of her head. The girl fell forward, unable to stop herself due to her binds. Her head collided with the cool marble floor, pain gathering at her forehead; closing her eyes instinctively. Chestnut brown eyes sprang open, rage colouring them as the corners of chapped lips turned upwards.

“Unbind her,” The king ordered, suppressed rage hinted in his controlled tone. He may not have been attending to all of his people’s needs but he was a kind man, blinded by those that covered his eyes with greedy hands. The dark-eyed girl seemed to be around his eldest’s age and he would never agree to anyone being beaten due to the way they spoke to him. Not a grown man and certainly not a child. Inhaling deeply, the cogs in his mind turned.

The guards’ eyes widened, mouths falling open in sync. The older guard stuttered out a question, pale blue eyes streaked with fear. The king did not answer his idiotic words, merely waving at them to do as he said. His dark eyes fell to the face of the young girl laid before him, wiped free of emotion except for the glimmer of amusement hidden in her irises. A wave of pain crashed through the king, voice smooth and controlled with a hint of threat as his guards hesitated, “Well?”

The men scrambled to their knees, hurriedly undoing the knot around the girl’s arms.  
Camila snorted, disgusted at the feeling of clammy skin against her own. Lying motionlessly, she silently enjoyed causing such distress and confusion; especially to men that had bound her and dragged her to the castle for a mere loaf of bread. The cool marble felt refreshing against her skin, perhaps the most expensive thing she’d made contact with in her entire seventeen years. Shutting her eyelids close for a moment to imprint the memory of such a material in her brain to tell her sister, she breathed softly. A warm voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Leave us.”

The scuffling of shoes against the marble flooring indicated their hasty retreat. No doubt their pea-sized brains were formulating idiotic thoughts of the reason why the king seemed so merciful to a thief, each far more unrealistic than the last. Camila rolled her eyes mentally; her six-year old sister was far more intelligent than those men. Of course, that was an easy accomplishment. She doubted those men could differentiate an ant and a jellyfish. Honestly, the king should ensure his guards had at least a sliver of intelligence. Who knows what would happen to the kingdom if several armed buffoons were allowed to run amok. Camila shuddered at the thought.

At least the heir had some intelligence.

The prince was smart and he was promising, but the boy wasn’t interested in ruling a kingdom. At age sixteen, all he wanted to do was party and play volleyball. It was a shame that the eldest, the princess who was supposed to be ruler, passed away at age five, when the prince was merely three years old. The girl had shown a bright mind and promising future.

“Please,” Camila heard, “Rise.”

The dark-eyed girl did as so obediently, features arranged in an emotionless mask. The king surveyed her from head to toe, an idea formulating in his brain. Mentally weighing the pros and cons of his plan, he came to a sound conclusion. Smiling slightly, the king clasped his hands together.

“I have a proposition.”


	2. Chapter 2

Camila surveyed the room before her. Rows and rows of gleaming wooden shelves filled the room, enough books that could last her ten lifetimes and then some. Mentally, she gaped in awe but her emotionless mask was in place as chestnut eyes slid across the room calculatingly. She noted the possible exits, only the giant window and the two doors from which she entered.

The wooden door slid shut with a thud, a servant already serving the king. From the looks and smell of it, King Michael the Third was indulging in a little hot chocolate. Of course, it was a cold winter morning but anger filled the girl as she stared at the cup filled with delicious frothy goodness.

"Please," The man said, waving his hand gracefully, "Sit."

Camila once again did as she was told, slowly sinking into the plush armchair. She scowled inwardly at the soft material and how utterly comfortable the chair was. Mentally cursing herself for enjoying the way the material bent to accommodate her and felt against her skin, she met the king's calculative gaze.

"Would you care for some hot chocolate?" The king questioned, tilting his cup towards her.

"My apologies for my insolence, Your Majesty," Camila began, voice carefully polite yet firm, "But I only care to know of your _proposition_."

"Ah, yes," The king faltered, hesitation evident in his tone, "My proposition."

Brown eyes showed no sign of the inner caution and annoyance Camila felt towards the man. She raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on.

"I have a job for you. One you can't tell a single soul about. However, you will be provided with meals and accommodations."

Camila stared unblinkingly at the king, brown eyes analysing his serious and slightly anxious expression.

"What is required of me to do, Your Majesty?" She questioned, suspicion swirling in her mind yet leaving no trace in her words.

The king paused, "I can only tell you if you accept, there is extremely classified information that is essential for you to know. "

Camila pushed down the annoyance surging through her veins. It wouldn't do to lose her temper, after all. Her lips turned up in a polite smile, but her brown eyes bore harshly into those of her superior.

"Your majesty," She began, inclining her head respectfully and maintaining her polite tone, "You wish for me to accept an unknown job with the simple promise of food and shelter?"

King Michael faltered, able to pick up on the subtle condescending undertone. He rubbed his eyes and suddenly he seemed older, wrinkles and grey hairs more pronounced.

"What is your name, child?" He asked.

Camila once again forced down her annoyance, "Camila, Your Majesty."

The man sighed, looking up and meeting her curious brown eyes. He seemed to zero in on a scratch on her cheek, fresh and undoubtedly caused by the dunderheads he'd hired to protect the kingdom. Taking in her ruffled and scruffy exterior, a sharp contrast to the fine décor of the library, he pulled off his crown and ran a hand through his graying hair.

"Speak your mind, Camila. Tell me what you truly think."

She showed no signs of hesitation. Dark eyes scrutinising him, she seemingly deemed his words genuine.

"If you wish to sleep with me, I refuse."

King Michael nodded, knowing that it had been running through the young girl's mind. He smiled, "Then it is a good thing that I, too, do not wish for that."

Despite the girl's raised eyebrow, the king remained silent. He sipped slowly on his lukewarm hot chocolate, no signs of impatience to be seen. However, Camila continued to stare until the cup of hot chocolate had been fully emptied. Setting aside his cup and placing his crown next to the tray, the man leaned forward slightly and smiled gently.

"You will be a bodyguard of sorts," The king began, the worry he tried to hide shining prominently in his eyes, "But also a companion to my daughter."

"Your Majesty-" Camila began.

"Please, address me by my name," The man interrupted, the corner of his lips quirking up.

"King Michael, I am completely unskilled. I don't even know how to ride a horse," She said, her index finger unconsciously stroking the soft material of her seat.

"You shall be trained," He said, "Please, Miss Camila, she needs someone her age that is able to protect her."

Chestnut eyes stare into warm brown, revealing no emotion swirling in their depths. Camila stared into the king's eyes, searching for any trace of deception. He was certainly hiding something. Finding what she was looking for, she smiled wryly and held her hand out.

"I accept," She announced, "On one condition."

"Name it."

"My sister."

 Oh, she could use the sliver of desperation in those warm brown eyes to her advantage.


End file.
